This time last year, I was happy and in love. I wrote a sappy post for the man I loved and was glad to share with the world. Yesterday, I felt amazing. I was all set to put another sappy post into the universe. For the first time in ages, I felt as if I was doing something good for my life. It seemed like things were going to be okay and I was moving in the right direction.
Today is a different story.
Maybe it’s because I had a weird dream about my dead grandfather.
Maybe it was because I didn’t get my extra walking in today.
Maybe it was because my stress level peaked again this afternoon.
Maybe because today is my anniversary and my personal life is a lowkey shambles.
Maybe because I blew my calorie budget in an attempt to make myself feel better and the food was mediocre at best.
Maybe it was because I’m not allowed to be in a decent mood for any significant amount of time.
Either way, right now I’m feeling terrible about myself. About my life. About my future. My depression has returned with a vengeance. I hate when this happens. It’s as if I dared to imagine my life without this heaviness on my heart. It’s like I offended my illness and Its angry. Its being needlessly relentless today.
No, depression. I didn’t forget about you. I would love to but I can’t. You don’t give me a chance to. You don’t leave me alone for long enough for me to escape you long term. You know that, don’t you?